MASON GRABBED HIS TOOLBOXand headed to the extra bedroom. He glanced at the picture. Looked simple enough. He should have this together in no time. “Hey, Harper?”
“Yeah?” she hollered back.
“Be sure and give me the receipt for this stuff, okay?” Mason was more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of her paying for everything.
“Okay.”
He blew out a breath, grateful she hadn’t fought him on it. Layla was his responsibility and he had enough resources to take care of her just fine. He just hadn’t known what he needed in order to do that.
As he took the pieces and tools out of the box, he noted that for the first time in several days, he felt better. Lighter. More hopeful. How he had ever thought he could do this alone, he didn’t understand. He must have been too drunk on grief to truly understand what it was going to be like to take care of a young child.
Even feeding Layla had been a challenge and yet Harper had stepped right in, knowing exactly what to do. Someone needed to create babysitting classes for boys, because this was ridiculous. He knew there were single fathers in the world. How did they learn it all?
From the women they had children with,Mason thought wryly. He didn’t have that resource, but he had Harper. She was never going to understand how glad he was that she had burst her way in, wielding her knowledge with the same expertise she wielded a paint brush.
She’ll also never understand how hard it is for you to keep referring to her as a friend.
Mason had been determined when he brought Layla home to not be distracted by anything else. Layla deserved all his attention, at least until she was a little older and Mason could breathe again. But even in the short time Harper had been there today, he’d realized just how hard it was having her around.
Every time she touched him, his heart jolted, like he’d been shocked by an electric current. And when he’d grabbed her hand to say thank you, he almost pulled back when an extremely pleasant warmth had begun to climb his arm.
He shook his head and opened the instruction booklet for the crib. As sweet as she was, Mason couldn't do it. It simply wouldn’t be fair to ask Harper to wait. She was a beautiful, wonderful woman and deserved more than what he was capable of offering at the moment.
“How are we doing in here?” Harper stood in the doorway with a freshly washed Layla on her hip.
Mason blinked at the image. Harper looked so natural with the little girl, like a mother with her daughter, though they were a picture of contrasts. Layla’s wet hair was darker than normal, but combed nicely with the ends curling into small ringlets, while Harper’s straight blond hair was scraped over one shoulder, looking brighter than ever against the dark little girl.
That warm feeling was back and Mason almost couldn’t bring himself to push it away. It was a welcome feeling after so much grief and loss. He cleared his throat and looked down at his project. “A little slower than expected.” He picked up the instructions. “I don’t think the person who wrote these spoke English.”
Harper laughed. “Probably true. But I think you’ll figure it out.” She started to walk away, but Mason wasn’t ready for her to go.
“Hey!”
Harper turned back, her eyebrows raised.
Idiot, he scolded himself. Now what? “Uh...what’s the thing Layla has?” The little girl was holding onto a handle that seemed attached to a cup and was holding it up, a small lip in her mouth.
Harper frowned. “A sippy cup.”
“A sippy...what?”
Harper’s frown turned into an amused smile. “You really haven’t been around children, have you?”
Mason scratched his chin. “Uh...no. I’m the oldest, but not old enough to remember my siblings as babies. And I don’t have any nieces or nephews, and my cousins are all back East.” He shrugged, once again feeling completely inept.
Harper waved him off. “Sorry. I’ll remember we’re starting from ground zero, I just forgot.” She jutted her chin to the cup. “It’s a cup that has a special lid so the child can drink without making a mess. It’s kind of a learning step between a bottle and a regular cup.”
Mason didn’t want to tell her about his attempt at helping Layla drink earlier today. He’d put his ignorance on display enough today. “Well, give me a half hour or so and I’ll have this together.”
Harper laughed softly. “Okay.” She walked away and Mason scowled, wondering why she had a skeptical tone.
He looked at all the pieces once again, but shrugged. He built giant totem poles out of wood. How hard could a crib be?
An hour and a half later, he shuffled into the sitting room, finding Harper reading a woodworking magazine to Layla. He made a note to get his niece a few books when he could manage to get to town. “It’s done,” he grumbled, dumping himself on the couch next to her.
“Oh good,” Harper said. “Because the little lady is definitely ready for bed.”
“She won’t sleep,” Mason said, opening one eye. “She hasn’t since she got here.”
“That’s because she could get out,” Harper said. “Come help and I’ll show you what to do.”
Mason sighed, but pulled his aching body back up and walked down the hall. Getting Layla to sleep would take a miracle and a small petty part of him wanted to see Harper actually run into a problem she couldn’t fix.
Mentally smacking himself, he amended his jealousy and joined her in the tiny room.
“Oh shoot.” Harper spun and handed Layla to Mason. “Hold her a moment. I forgot the blankets.” She disappeared down the hall before Mason could stop her.
His eyes automatically went back to Layla, who was watching him with those serious eyes. They blinked slowly, and he realized Harper was right. She was ready for bed.
“Okay, here we go.” Harper pulled the tag off a small pink sheet and followed it with a soft blanket. She handed the blanket to Mason. “Let her touch and cuddle with it for a moment.”
Mason offered Layla the blanket, but she just stared.
“Throw it over your shoulder and gently tip her head down,” Harper suggested.
Not knowing how that would help, Mason did as instructed. Layla resisted only for a moment before relaxing against the soft fabric. He could practically feel her body melt into his chest and a small protective fire lit inside of him. This was all so new, but Mason couldn’t deny that having Layla around was already changing him.
“Great,” Harper whispered, having fixed the sheet over the mattress. She patted the side of the crib. “Now let her down with the blanket.”
“That’s it?”
Harper nodded. “Yep. She’s so tired she’ll probably sleep a good long while.”
Mason walked over and gently eased Layla up and over the side, placing her on her back, the blanket tucked into her shoulder and side of her face.
“Come on.” Harper walked to the door and waited.
Mason looked at Harper, then back down at Layla. He was suddenly afraid of leaving her. Would she be alright? Would she start to cry as soon as he left? He watched those eyes blink slowly again, but just couldn’t seem to walk away. A small, soft hand on his pulled his attention away.
“She’s going to be fine,” Harper insisted quietly, though she was smiling at him. “Come on and let her sleep.” When he still didn’t move, she grasped his hand and tugged, pulling him into the hallway.
Harper closed the door and there wasn’t a peep from the other side. She pushed her hair away from her face. “Okay. I think maybe you should go to bed as well and in the morning I’ll come help show you how to create a schedule that you can both work with.”
Mason looked at the door. “You’re sure she’s fine?”
“Absolutely.” Harper’s response was so matter of fact that Mason felt he had no choice but to believe her.
He nodded, forcing himself to take a couple of steps away from the door and Harper’s alluring presence. “Thank you...again. I don’t know what I’d have done without your help.”
“Been too sleep deprived to function,” Harper teased. She nodded toward the front of the house. “I’ll let myself out. See you later.”
Mason watched her go, wanting to say so much and yet not knowing how. She marched into his home like a whirlwind and yet somehow, had set everything to rights. The only thing that would be better was if Harper could become just as permanent a part of the household as Layla now was.
The sound of a soft sigh behind him, however, reminded Mason why that wasn’t possible. At least not right now. Maybe, hopefully...after all was said and done, lightning would strike twice and he’d find someone just as wonderful as Harper to help give Layla a feminine influence in her life. If only he could be so lucky.